


Brisket

by SapphoIsBurning



Series: Demons & dirtbags & darlings & dears [5]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, Finn's shoulder, Food, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, abuse of medical terminology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes to visit Finn and Sami after Finn's surgery. He does everything he can to lighten the load and the mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brisket

**Author's Note:**

> This goes out to all the heartbroken Finn Balor fans. We're all gonna be strong for Finn in our own way.

The doorbell to their condo rang. Sami leapt up to get it, leaving Finn ambiguously asleep or just spaced out, watching Teen Wolf on a propped-up iPad.

Sami took the steps two at a time, trying not to slip in his bare feet, and opened the front door. Dean Ambrose was standing there with a bunch of covered foil pans.

“I brought dinner,” he said.

“Come in, oh god, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I mean, I’m going to eat some of this brisket so it’s not totally out of the goodness of my bleeding heart, but. I kind of did. Have to do this. You guys.” Dean looked at Sami with pleading eyes over the top of the stack of pans.

Sami took half of the stack and carried it over to the counter. Dean set his down in the same place.

“How are you holding up?” Dean asked, scratching at his facial scruff thoughtfully.

“I’m fine, it’s not about me.”

“I’m asking about you, though.”

“It’s really hard,” Sami sighed. “He’s alive. He’s alive and he can walk and it’s not his brain or his spine, and the surgery went well, and I wish I could be more grateful for what we have. Had? Have.” He took his hat off and threw it down on the coffee table.

Dean sat down in a squarish Ikea armchair and shrugged off his hoodie behind him, draping it over the back and arms. “Is he awake?”

“Sort of. The painkillers are making him pretty spacey and he nods off a lot. He’s propped up in the bedroom.”

Dean frowned. “He probably doesn’t want to see me.”

Sami shrugged. “More like he hasn’t been able to shower since the surgery. I can ask him though. So what did you get?”

“Barbecue brisket and burnt ends, chicken quarters, macaroni and cheese, garlic bread, all the best stuff off their menu. One of the only places I miss in Florida.”

They got up and made plates without talking. Sami made a second one, cutting the strips of beef brisket into small pieces and pulling the chicken off the bone.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, taking the plate and a fork and a napkin and a juice box with a straw up the stairs balanced in his arms.

Dean wasn’t sure what to do with himself alone in his lovers’ living room. They hadn’t even seen each other that much until Summerslam weekend, and Finn’s shoulder had cut their celebration plans pretty short on Sunday night. He sat back down in the chair with his plate and picked at the macaroni. It was baked in a big pan, golden brown patches on top, thick crusts of cheese on the side. Everything kind of tasted like sand and he wasn’t even the one injured. He wasn’t even living with the injured person. He flew in to visit and brought dinner and maybe he wasn’t even welcome here, maybe he should have just sent a card and forgotten about the whole thing, maybe it was over, maybe—

“Dean, Finn wants to see you,” Sami called from the top of the stairs. “Can you bring my plate up too?”

“Sure,” Dean said, shaking himself out of a supremely unhelpful train of thought. He grabbed their food and, stepping over discarded clothing and probably a dangerously placed Lego project, climbed the stairs. He poked his head in the master bedroom. Finn was sitting against the headboard with an ice pack taped over his shoulder and his arm in a blue sling. He was wearing Star Wars pajama pants and sipping out of a box of Ecto Cooler with his left hand. He smiled at Dean.

“Heya,” he said. “Forgive me if I don’t get up.”

“Hey yourself,” Dean said. He handed over Sami’s plate. “Fucking sucks, man.”

“It does,” Finn agreed. Sami nodded. “Sami, love, eat your barbecue, you can’t take care of me on an empty stomach.”

Sami nodded again absentmindedly and stuck a huge piece of brisket into his mouth. He startled himself a little but chewed determinedly. Dean and Finn looked at each other and then back at Sami, still chewing. They they both broke into laughter.

“No, don’t make me laugh, I’m going to pop the stitches,” Finn groaned, trying to catch his breath. He hissed in a pained gasp and let it out with more uncontrollable laughter. Dean bit the inside of his cheeks trying to get a grip.

“I don’t know why this is so funny to you,” Sami said with his mouth still full of brisket. They laughed even harder. Dean set his plate down on the foot of the bed so he could wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Sami, love, I know for a fact you’d rather hear me laugh than cry. I’m sure I could fetch up some tears if you really wanted me to.”

“The Percocet’s making you weird,” Sami said, pouting a little.

“It’s also making me high as a fucking kite, and you can’t have any.” He shoved another forkful of food into his mouth and kept talking. “God, Dean, this is fucking fantastic. I’m so glad to see someone who doesn’t look like they’re attending my wake.”

Dean shrugged, wide-eyed. “Dunno, man, I’ve seen worse than that. I saw a guy wrestle on a broken leg, bone sticking through the skin and everything. CZDub. He got the pin, though.”

Finn grinned and took a sip of his juice box. “Sure, sure. Vader’s eye got knocked out but you know there’s a guy in New Japan who got both eyes popped right out and finished the match. He had to get Lasik after that.”

Sami snickered and sighed at the same time. “Mike Quackenbush lost a leg once. He found it later. Still finished the match.”

“Fucking Chikara, man!” Dean said. “Shit Finn, what’s the point of having two shoulders if you don’t blow one of them once in a while? Sami, back me up here.”

Sami rolled his eyes. “It makes you appreciate the little things in life, I’ll give you that.”

“Like washing your hair. And wanking.” Finn closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow. “I haven’t been able to get off since Sunday afternoon.” Sami blushed a little at that.

Dean shoveled the last of his food off his plate and into his mouth. He dropped the plate down and then dusted off his hands. “Nurse, this patient needs a sponge bath, stat. With happy endings. 100 CCs of happy endings.”

Sami coughed and choked on his macaroni a little. Dean pounded him on the back while Finn looked on, amused. “Doctor, are you sure? One hundred cubic centimeters...the normal amount is about five.”

“Push fluids! We have to get this man up to standard temperature and pressure!” Dean said, pointing dramatically. This time Sami didn’t have food in his mouth and just stifled a giggle. “Nurse, prep the patient.” Dean turned and walked out dramatically. Sami assumed that he was the nurse in this scenario, and so he took away Finn’s empty plate and helped him get undressed enough to get in the bath—getting off his pajama pants and his non-slip socks and his underwear.

Dean ran the bath and tried to clear a path to lower a grown man into it without knocking over eight million bottles of body wash and conditioner and shaving cream and shampoo and peppermint soap and whatever the fuck else they had accumulated since they moved into this place together.

“I can’t walk, nurse, you’ll have to carry me,” Finn said, sounding muffled from two rooms over.

“You’re just going to have to lie here in your own butt sweat then, because how am I even supposed to lift you? I can’t even fireman’s carry you without fucking up your stitches. Maybe if we had some kind of a pulley system, or a gurney. Can you get a home gurney? Is that a thing?”

Finn just laughed.

Dean looked around to see if there was anything to add to the bath for bubbles or aroma or whatever the hell people who take baths a lot like, but he didn’t see anything that was obviously for the bath and not possibly a cleaning implement or a bar of soap or purely decorative (which one of them acquired all the random decorations on the counters, or was it both of them? Dean was suddenly jealous and wanted someone to fill mason jars with cool looking rocks on his behalf).

Eventually Sami dragged a naked Finn in through the door, and there was a certain aroma of unwashed man, though Dean had definitely smelled worse and less appealing things. “The treatment has been prepared,” Dean said in his doctor voice. “Nurse, we have to get him into the bath. Lives depend on it.”

Sami squinted at him. “Lives.”

“Yes! Lives.” Dean got up and got an arm under Finn’s left armpit, and between him and Sami they managed to lower Finn into the water without hurting him more or splashing too much over the edge or hurting themselves too.

“Nurse! My equipment.” Dean stared at Sami expectantly. Finn giggled. “The patient is delirious. We must proceed.”

“Your equipment or your *equipment*?” Sami asked.

“Well we’ll start with one and see if we have time for the other. You never know with these wrestling types.” Dean held his hand out expectantly.

Sami looked around him and put a toothbrush in his hand.

“Nurse. What part of the patient am I supposed to use this on.”

“Sorry, I got flustered! What are we even doing?”

“I’M GETTING A SPONGE BATH!” shouted Finn. “There’s a spongy thing in the basket in the bottom of the closet, Sami, you know, where all the extra bath stuff is.

Sami got up and went out into the hallway. He came back with a plastic loofah and a bag of Doritos. “Finn, why were these in the closet?” He took the chip clip off and shoved some into his mouth.

“I think I was eating them and then got distracted...I can’t quite remember. Because I hurt my arm. It’s very distracting. Isn’t someone going to give me a handjob?”

“Sedate the patient!” said Dean, snatching the loofah from Sami and plunging it into the water.

“Jesus, I’m sedate, I’m sedate,” Finn said, settling back down in the tub as Dean swirled the water around him.

Dean reached for a bottle of soap but Sami rushed in to stop him and Finn protested verbally.

“What’s wrong with this soap, I do have to wash his ass. He smells like balls and hospital.”

“That’s the peppermint soap, you...don’t want to use that on your balls,” Sami said.

“Why?” Dean opened it and smelled it, shrugging.

“The burning,” Finn said, looking at Sami and laughing.

Dean made a mental note to try it out himself later. “Nurse, select a cleanser, I tire of these antics.”

“Doctor, I recommend the blue bottle.” Dean opened that one and smelled it: vaguely man-like with a hint of dad. It was nice. He poured a big dollop of it onto the wet sponge and squeezed it, working up a lather.

“Nurse, I’m commencing the cleanse, stat.”

“Roger that, captain, shields are holding steady.”

Finn squinted up, looking at each of them in turn, but he got nothing. Dean reached down and gently lathered up the parts of his body that were able to be rinsed in the water, getting his groin and his legs and his feet and, reaching down while Finn leaned forward, his butt. Sami was standing and leaning against the doorway.

Dean swirled the water, washing away the soap bubbles and gliding his hand over Finn’s hard body, feeling it lose its soapy slickness as it became clean. He reached down and felt the start of Finn’s erection, sliding his fist down over the foreskin to the head.

“Doctor,” Finn said.

“Nurse,” said Dean.

“Red alert, captain, they’re firing on the starboard bow!”

Dean gripped Finn’s dick harder. “Dammit, I’m a doctor not a space captain!”

“Damn that transporter accident,” Finn said, shifting his hips a little.

Sami came to stand over Dean. “The balance of power in the universe hangs on this handjob, Doctor Captain. Only the handjob can restore us to the proper timeline.”

Dean straightened his back. “I was born for this job,” he said. “Set torpedos to full...nelson.”

Sami ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Full nelson on your mark.”

“On his mark,” Dean said, nodding at Finn and stroking him harder, his cock hard and heavy in his hand.

Finn sighed and leaned his head back against the tile wall, laughing silently, eyes closed.

“Shields at eighty percent and falling,” Sami said.

“Fire,” Finn said weakly and Dean felt him coming in the water, his dick spasming and his breathing coming in ragged. He stroked him through his orgasm and held him behind the neck with his other hand, squeezing gently, a reassuring presence.

When he was done, Dean took his hand back, flicking the water from his fingers up at Sami, who rolled his eyes and handed him a very fluffy towel. They helped Finn out and Dean hit the toggle to drain the tub. While Dean supported Finn’s weight, Sami dried his body gently and then wrapped the towel around his middle, tucking the end in.

“I think the procedure was a success,” Dean said.

Finn yawned in response.

Sami nodded. “Let’s get him horizontal. Or at least, at a 120 degree angle? How much is...never mind.”

Dean hummed the Star Trek theme as they brought Finn to the bedroom. Finn was compliant in their arms, looking content and sleepy as they helped him into a new pair of boxers and some clean pajama pants.

“Ugh, should probably wash linens too. Just gonna have to do that tomorrow,” Sami said, looking around the room.

Dean pulled a light blanket over Finn’s legs and moved the ipad back into a comfortable position.

“Guys, can you turn out the light, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” Finn said.

“Sure, old man,” Dean said, grinning.

“Goodnight babe,” Sami said, kissing him at an awkward angle but tenderly enough.

“Night love.” Dean was in the doorway carrying the dirty plates from dinner and Sami at the light switch when Finn corrected himself. “Loves.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up as Sami turned off the light and shut the door.

“We’re both glad you’re here, Dean.” Sami paused, trying to stiffen his expression, but it didn’t work and his face crumpled. “God.”

Dean set the plates down and pulled Sami into his arms. Sami buried his face in Dean’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Dean said. He rubbed circles into Sami’s back with his right hand.

Dean pulled him along a bit and sat the him down on the bed in the guest bedroom, gently shutting the door behind them.

“I never wanted this for him,” Sami hiccuped. “I thought once I was through it, like, it was over and now it’s just all coming back to me. I don’t want him to feel helpless, I don’t want _anyone_ to feel that way, fuck.”

Dean nodded. He kicked his shoes off and got up on the bed next to Sami, crossing his legs. He nudged at Sami to turn and face him. They sat close, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Fuck,” Dean said.

“Fucking a,” Sami replied.

“You’re a good guy,” Dean said. “You’re doing your best.”

Sami sighed. “We’re all doing our best.”

Dean gestured toward the pillows with his head. “Wanna be the little spoon? You’re not gonna make me sleep on the couch, are you?”

Sami laughed, hiccuping again, and stretched out. Dean lay down behind him and reached an arm around his chest, under his arm, clutching him.

“Talk about a rest hold,” Dean said, laughing a little into Sami’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sami said, his voice breaking.

Dean opened his mouth to deflect the gratitude but stopped. “It’s what I do for people I love,” he said.

“We should put the rest of the brisket in the fridge,” Sami added.

“Later,” Dean said.


End file.
